No Salt on Her Tail
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: He could see it in her eyes, as they stood in the burned out ruins of her house. Begging, pleading, dying, for him to leave her be. Let me go, Zane, please. Just let me go. And he realized, in that moment, that he didn't have a choice, no matter how much it killed him, he had to let her go... Alternate Universe, Post-Reprise.


**No Salt on Her Tail**

**R****if****iuto: Non Miriena**

**Summary: He could see it in her eyes, as they stood in the burned out ruins of her house. Begging, pleading, dying, for him to leave her be. _Let me go, Zane, _please_. Just let me go._ And he realized, in that moment, that he didn't have a choice, no matter how much it killed him, he had to let her go... **

_"What do you want from me, Zane?"_

Her voice was clogged with tears; so many she choked on them as they moved up her throat. Her beautiful dark eyes were filled to the brim with fresh tears, and she looked so small, midst the ruins of her burned down home.

"I want to know what we were." He replied. She scoffed, shaking her head, before looking up at him.

"Nothing, Zane. We were_ nothing_." He shook his head.

"I don't believe that, Jo." Groaning in exasperation, she went to him, pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss. All too soon, she pulled away, eyes filling with tears.

"See? _Nothing."_ She choked, moving past him. His heart thumped, and he reached out, grabbing her wrist to stop her. She turned back, pain evident in her dark eyes. With new resolve, he took the three steps towards her and closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his. He drank her in, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close. It felt so right, to be in his arms again, after all this time apart, and as she slowly wound her arms around his neck, she felt as though she'd come home.

His arm snaked around her waist, pressing her into him, her soft body melding into his, sliding and fitting perfectly against his hard planes. He tasted every inch of her that he could, drank in every delicious drop of the woman he'd watched and wanted from afar for so long, enjoying every last bite that she'd allow. His hands moved up and down her back, against the soft cotton of her black blouse, brushing over the smoothness of her black pants, caressing the curves he'd imagined exploring for two years. Every part of her, every last bite, was just as soft and luxurious as he'd imagined.

He found himself getting drunk off her taste, her smell, her feel. Like an alcoholic or drug addict, he needed more. So much more.

_How could I have let her go? How could I-?_

And just as fast as he'd locked his lips with hers, he found himself losing contact with her soft, pink mouth as she shoved him away. She reached up, brushing her mouth against the sleeve of her blouse, a look of disgust on her pretty features. Those dark chocolate eyes that had just minutes earlier been soft and filled with tears, now turned cold, filling with ice, and he felt his heart constrict.

_"What the fuck did you think you were doing?"_ She screeched, jumping him. Her small fists slammed into his chest as she lost control, letting her rage take control. She'd lost everything- the evidence smouldered and crumbled around her, and yet, here was Zane, this smug... self-centered horndog, kissing her, trying to make her fall in love with him and forget everything that had just happened, forget that the man she loved was dead and gone._ "How dare you! How dare you come here and try to make me forget everthing that's happened!"_ She screamed, shoving him backwards, palms flat against his broad chest. He stumbled back, too startled to resist._ "I've lost everything! Because of you! Do you hear me, Zane? Everything! Because. Of. You! Because you took it from me! You took everything from me! Everything!"_

He didn't respond, didn't react, didn't say a word as he endured Jo's wrath. How could he, when everytime he touched her, she shoved him away, screaming obsenities at him. Eventually, she shoved him off what had at one point been a beautiful hardwood porch with a white, wraparound banister. His back hit the concrete path leading to the steps- the only thing that remained of the porch- and he stared up in surprise as Jo stood, smouldering like the last, burning remains of her home.

_"You get the fuck out of my life, Zane Donovan, and you stay out!"_

And then he watched her turn on her heel and storm back into the ruins. He sucked in a deep breath, pushed himself to a sitting position, getting his bearings before climbing to his feet. When he looked back, Jo was sitting in the middle of what had been her living room, surrounded by the remenants of a photographs, furniture, books, rocking gently back and forth. Images of Jo in a straight jacket, locked away in a mental asylum jumped to mind, and he shuddered.

_I'm sorry._

And then he headed to his bike, leaving Jo sitting in the middle of her house, smouldering and burning in the ruins of what had once been a beautiful home, grieving for a life she'd lost, and the man he'd been, in another time, another universe, who'd loved her, and dreamed of making it official.

* * *

"Jo? What are you doing here?" She didn't have to look up, or open her eyes, to know that Carter stood in the middle of the sheriff's office, coffee in hand, wondering why the hell his former deputy and best friend was sleeping on the cot in the jail cell.

"Zane destroyed my house." She burrowed back under the blanket. Carter groaned inwardly, and she glared at him. He shuddered; she didn't even have to look at him, let alone be in the same room, and she still scared him.

"When? And why didn't you come to SARAH? You know we'd never turn you away."

"Right. The last thing I need is to look like a fucking charity case."

"Um, Jo, can you maybe, come out from under the blanket so we can talk? I can hardly hear you." Slowly, one hand, smudged and black with soot, reached out, gripped the blanket, and pulled it back. When she looked up, Carter stood next to the cot, having entered the cell. She stared up at him with wide, tired eyes. "You okay?" He asked, pulling up the chair he'd brought into the cell with him and taking a seat. She shrugged, not looking at him. "And... what happened to your hands?" Carter gingerly picked up the hand nearest him, examining the black, afraid it was dried blood from a gash or cut, and instantly relieved to find it was anything but.

"The... ruins of my house. You can go gawk at it, if you want. The frame's barely standing; it's like the North Tower after Nine-Eleven- all burned frame and rubble. Most of my neighbors are probably out there, staring at it as we speak, why don't you go join them?" She asked, pulling her hand away as she sat up. Carter sighed.

"What exactly happened Jo? I... I mean I know your house burned down, and that Zane was somehow involved- which isn't really a surprise, since Zane is almost_ always_ involved, but I'm a little confused on the minor details. Start from the beginning, why don'tcha?" She sighed in agitation, but when she looked up, Carter was holding out an extra cup of coffee he'd picked up; they'd been planning on meeting for coffee anyway, and she was touched that he remembered.

She took a sip of the hot drink, letting it slide down her throat in relief, before speaking. "Zane burned my house down yesterday because he was listening to_ 'Burning Down the House'_ by the Talking Heads, and because he was influenced by that stupid program that idiot Dr. Marten accidentally downloaded onto the jukebox." Carter listened; he knew that Dr. Marten had obviously annoyed Jo the day before- hell, he'd only met her once, and she 'bout drove him up a wall- but Jo had never said anything about it; she'd just smiled nicely and kept her mouth shut. Maybe she'd been influenced by more than just Bob Marley yesterday.

"Okay. So Zane burned down your house because of Dr. Marten's program. Then what happened?" She swallowed the mouthful of coffee and said,

"When I went home to survey the damage, Zane followed me home and asked to know what we were to each other. When I told him we were nothing..." She bit her lip quickly, glancing up at Carter's face. "He kissed me." The sheriff's eyebrows shot up.

"Really?" She nodded. "And... did you kiss him back?"

"For a moment. And then I remembered what he'd done, and how I'd lost everything because of him, and as soon as I got my extremities back in order, I shoved him away and..."

"And?" Carter goaded gently. She sighed, looking down at the cup. Her finger slowly traced the rim of the lid as she spoke.

"I may have... beat up on him... a little bit." She replied, knowing full well that a little bit meant at least three cracked ribs and various bruises, cuts and abraisions from her hitting him, and then shoving him off the porch onto the cement walk below. "And then... shoved him out of what was left of my house and told him to leave me alone."

"'Leave you alone'?" He asked. "Jo, what did you say?" She sighed.

"I told him to... get the fuck out of my life and stay out." She muttered, tears beginning to well in her eyes as the events of the last twenty-four hours finally caught up with her.

"Oh Josefina." Before she could blink, Carter was sitting next to her on the cot, arm around her shoulders. She choked out a sob, turned to look at him, and then instantly straightened, brushing the tears off her cheeks and taking a deep breath.

"I'm fine. Thank you for the coffee, Carter. I need to get to work, I'll see you later." And without glancing back, she was out the cell and gone.

_The hell you're fine._

* * *

_Thank God you had a few things left at SARAH, otherwise you'd have nothing to wear._ She tightened her ponytail before making her way across the rotunda. It had taken her an hour to shower and get the soot off her skin, though the sweet scent of smoke still coated her like a second skin, followed by a half hour to find the clothes she'd forgotten to take with her when she moved into her remade house, and then ten minutes to get to work because she'd left the bunker first without shoes and then her PDA. All in all, so far, it was a great day.

She stopped, to see Zane standing on the other side of the rotunda, talking with Allison and Fargo.

_And about to get even better._

Quickly, she screwed on the smile, smoothed her jacket, and strode towards the other side of the rotunda, each step bringing her closer to the man she detested. All three looked up; Allison and Fargo extended greetings, and Zane gave her a soft, sad smile. She tilted her head up, brushing past him with a curt, "Allison, Fargo." as she went. All three turned back to look at her.

"What was that about?" Fargo asked as he and Allison turned confused gazes to Zane. He swallowed.

"Zane?" It was Allison's soft, concerning voice that got his attention. "What exactly did you do?"

* * *

"So you kissed her, and she flipped out?" Zane nodded.

"Pretty much."

"And he has the war wounds to prove it." Allison said, turning to Fargo and the others. They'd called an emergency meeting with Henry, Grace and Carter in Fargo's office, all wondering about Jo's quick change in attitude. Carter told them about his conversation with her in the jail cell of the sheriff's office, and Zane had filled in the blanks with what had gone on the night before, even going so far as to show them the damage Jo had done. "Three cracked ribs, four seperate abraisions, and a handful of cuts and bruises."

"That's not a little bit." Carter replied. "I'm surprised she didn't kill you." Everyone turned to stare at him. "What? If she's angry enough, she could kill you with her thumbs!" Allison rolled her eyes.

"W-"

"I have those quarterly reviews you were asking for, Far-go-" Everyone turned as Jo strode into the office, tablet in hand. She looked around, her eyes instantly lighting with rage at the sight of Zane sitting in a nearby chair. "What the fuck is he doing here?" She ground out.

_"Jo!"_ Carter snapped. Sure, he'd heard her swear before, but the tone with which she spoke startled him. She glared at him, before turning back to the others.

"Oh, I get it. He's telling you his sob story. Well, don't believe him. You can't expect anything from a felon except empty promises and loaded threats."

"That's not what's going on, Jo-" Allison started. Jo turned her dark, steely eyes to the Medical Director.

"I get what's going on." She muttered. "Turncoats, every one of you." She growled, dropping the tablet on the floor before turning and storming out of the office, her ponytail snapping in the air. It was several minutes before anyone spoke.

"... so she's a little mad. It's Jo, it'll all blow over soon." Fargo said.

A _little_ mad? Five pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. They all knew Jo- in some form or another- and all knew that this wouldn't blow over soon at all. Zane had gotten a taste the night before; he'd been on the recieving end of the calm before- and what they'd just had the opportunity to witness, was the build up of a perfect storm. A storm, that if not carefully prepared for, would destroy all of Eureka, and everything in its path.


End file.
